Without Exception
by Eelfie
Summary: Alex returns to Brecon Beacons-this time traumatized after Jack's death. Mute, he needs the guidance and protection of the SAS to relearn what it means to be a teenager and a spy. *Based off of BekkaJane's What Goes Without Saying
1. Prologue

Wolf glanced expectantly at his unit. None of them had been expecting the sergeant to announce _this_ type of news, but there the man was, glaring at each and every one of them with a snarl on his face. He supposed the sergeant wasn't too happy, considering the SIS had forced the man to agree. It was his pride on the line, no doubt.

"Cub will stay with you in your cabin until further notice," the sergeant barked. "You'll get a new recruit once he's out, to replace Fox." No one mentioned that Fox had left the SAS for MI6. It didn't seem like a reasonable time to point out the nitpicky details. "I expect all of you to complete your brush-up training in the meantime. I don't care what Cub does, as long as he's with you training. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" Wolf ground his teeth but it didn't matter. The sergeant was of the highest authority here, and he wasn't about to lose his job on account of one annoying teenager. Cub. What a surprise. Technically, Wolf supposed, the annoying brat was a part of K-unit but not by choice or even reason. At first, Wolf had believed Cub as a son to some rich man. Then he was called for active duty at Point Blank. There he had learned the truth about Cub's training. He was working for MI6, the same bloody organization that had recruited Fox.

K-unit was simply a test for the kid. Cub was surprisingly good for a teenager, keeping out far longer than Wolf first expected, even ending with seventeen and a half minutes on the obstacle course. Though Wolf had received the same time his first time, he wasn't about to dish out that information any time soon. The brat may as well be—

The sergeant's voice broke Wolf's thoughts, although this time his voice was considerably softer like he didn't want others to hear despite the fact that the room only held its four occupants. "SIS called ahead of time. Cub's having some physical and psychological issues," he said, frowning for a briefest of moments. Wolf took this moment to wonder what had happened, especially since it had been nearly a year last seeing the teen. "I don't want you to entirely treat him like SAS because he's not. However, he needs help and familiar faces might do him some good. He's mute, now."

Mute? The word froze Wolf in an instant. The last time he had seen Cub, he was admittedly silent, but only because he had just slammed into a barbed wire fence and a train. Barely conscious even. And the time before, he seemed to be a little out of place in the SAS training camp with his youth yet he still spoke to answer orders. That, and to show his ability to pickpocket the sergeant for matches.

From the look on his unit's faces, they hadn't been expecting an even greater surprise than Cub's return. Eagle looked as though someone was preparing to throw a pie in his face, squeamish at the news. Snake, on the other hand, looked stoic. To an outsider, it would have seemed like he was indifferent, but after a few years of training with the man, Wolf knew the cogs in his head were reeling at the possibilities. The man's medic mode was in overdrive in thinking up ways to fix up Cub.

Then he thought of something else. "Sir?" Wolf questioned. "How do we know if he needs something?" Not that Wolf actually cared. Teenagers were bound to be annoying, mute or no. It was, however, Wolf's job to keep the unit together, and that meant the kid's necessities needed to kept in account as well.

The sergeant didn't blink. "You'll just have to find out," he stated. "Now get out of here! Cub should already be at the cabin."

K-unit simply nodded and walked their way out. It was silent as they trudged their way up the hill to the unit's cabin. Wolf personally would have thought this as a welcome change, considering Eagle's loud mouth, if it weren't for the gnawing dread growing in his stomach.

"What the hell do you think happened?" Eagle suddenly burst out. Snake looked at Eagle with an eyebrow raised but didn't reply. Inwardly, Wolf sighed. Team leader or no, it would be better to shut Eagle up now instead of in front of the boy's presence.

"I don't know," Wolf replied shortly. "MI6's not going to just hand out the kid's file and we didn't get any information from the sergeant. We don't need to know."

"But the sergeant said—"

"The sergeant didn't give us any information about the kid because we don't need to know," Wolf said, exasperated. "We just need to get him a bit familiar with all of us, maybe get him to like our company."

Eagle's mouth opened and closed as he attempted to think of another reason. Privately, Wolf thought he looked like a fish, with its mouth hanging wide open. It was a good look for his teammate, considering his lack of sense in the field.

"We're here." Snake's voice cut between Eagle and Wolf. Wolf glanced up at his cabin with a sudden sense of foreboding. Cub was back at Brecon Beacons.


	2. Cabin Meeting

Alex knew the moment he saw them, it wouldn't be quite the same as the last time he was here.

He had just unpacked the last of his luggage, which admittedly was a poor amount, when K-unit opened the door. For a moment, he saw their curiosity and wariness upon entering the cabin, their eyes darting around as if he wasn't there. Wolf, Alex noticed, took special care in avoiding his eyes at first look. He supposed it was because of his mission at Point Blank. That, or the fact the last time he was here, he had saved Wolf from being binned from Special Forces. A second later, he decided it was better that they avoid the topic altogether.

It was silent. Awkward, yet simultaneously familiar. No one spoke for a stretch of time—and then Alex broke it by nodding his head slightly and turning back to his belongings to sort out the last of it. Behind his back, he heard Eagle let out a _whoosh_ of relief. He imagined the man fist pumping into the air as though it was a great accomplishment he had answered.

Maybe it was, Alex thought to himself. After all, he was mute. Things just didn't get as awkward otherwise.

He picked up the few random objects left on his bunk: his homework from Brooklands, the gel pen with a small amount of ink left from one of his missions, and a small box wrapped with a red bow. Few precious objects left from the time before Jack was there. But he wouldn't think about her.

It was a sad thought, knowing he still had a life in school with his homework yet couldn't possibly return to that littlest bit of normalcy without feeling a slight uneasiness for his classmates' safety. All because of him. A tightening in his chest swelled up—but Alex let out a breath, releasing the tension. It was, after all, just homework.

The gel pen was from Smithers. He hadn't wanted his technology back, and Alex kept it as a safety measure. If the ink could explode, it could come in handy with future missions when he had even less to use than before. MI6 didn't like knowing their weapon had the ability to turn against them. Alex privately thought he would never turn against them—not because he liked them—but because they were his last chance of destroying Scorpia's last bits, the same people who had killed Jack. Still, it was a bit comforting to know that MI6 was starting to realize just how deadly a fifteen year old could be.

Alex fingered the last item, the small box wrapped delicately. Jack's last present to Alex. The two had both supposed the mission would go as well as the past several had gone, which ultimately meant a few bruises but nothing permanent. It was a surprise, a welcome home present. He had yet to open it to see what Jack had left for him. But he couldn't open it without Jack—in spite of everything, she hadn't come home like she was supposed to.

He picked up the small box and placed it back into his backpack. There wasn't a use in the SAS for a present. Alex felt a small wave of guilt, knowing that he was most likely going to be facing wrath from the shrink he was supposed to see the next day for refusing to see anything that had belonged to Jack. The moment was crushed an instant later, however. His assassin instincts, from training with Scorpia, quickly kicked in, throwing out all emotion.

"Hey, Cub, you okay?" Alex jerked up to see Eagle's concerned gaze. Wildly, he desperately tried to think of an excuse to reply to the man without revealing his thoughts—but then he realized he was supposed to be mute. He didn't have to think of an answer. In reply, Alex merely nodded, a small nod. It was a quiet sort of nod, the kind that wouldn't be noticed as anything out of the ordinary.

Eagle studied him for a moment, watching Alex squirm slightly underneath his penetrating glance. Briefly, Alex wondered if he could tell the reason behind his muteness despite Eagle's tendency for unobserving the simplest things. But then he spoke. "I don't know, Wolf, he doesn't seem that different from before."

Alex nearly fell over. Not that different? Well, the last time he had seen Eagle was before he was sent on his first mission. Seven missions later (some of course, not recorded), he had changed into a cold-blooded ex-assassin, MI6's perfect spy. There were no teenager-like antics left in him. No crude jokes, no rowdy yelling, not even a simple studying of geometry without a glance backwards to check for hired gunmen.

Wolf barely glanced upwards from what he was doing, which was unpacking his own belongings. In reply to this, he saw Eagle frown, the barest hint that something was indeed different from before, though not the fact that the men hadn't unpacked yet. Alex noticed they hadn't arrived before him, though it was to be expected. The men couldn't have stayed in the SAS training camp—which meant they were here for a brush-up training like he was. Technically, he supposed, it meant he was part of K-unit.

_And what a lovely unit I have_, Alex thought sarcastically. Wolf wasn't even concerned about him. Not that Alex wanted him to be. It was just preferable to be the target of pranks than be ignored like he was now. The situation seemed just like Blunt's and Mrs. Jones's warped methods in sending him off on missions, where his protests were promptly ignored in favor for blackmail.

Alex quietly snorted to himself. If Blunt would listen to what he had to say, there wouldn't be as many lunatics running the world. The head of MI6 hadn't even believed him with Damien Cray…nor had he finished eradicating the organization Scorpia even after he had taken down Julia Rothman.

He shook his head, shutting the thought down. The point was, he was back in Brecon Beacons for some brush-up training, not to reminisce about what had happened. It wouldn't be good if he were doing his push-ups to have a thought on Razim…and salt.

Glancing quickly at the time, he realized it was nearly 1800 hours. Dinner in the mess hall. He sighed, looking down at himself. Unfortunately, he was still wearing his Brooklands school uniform, having just been at school that morning. The standard issue military uniform lay in a neat pile on his bed, almost mocking him. The various scars littered across his body would be plainly seen by the three other SAS men, and although he knew they were informed of his so-called "job", he was sure it was cause some unnecessary trouble with Snake and his obsessive medic mode.

Alex internally called up a debate. Should he stay here and simply pretend to sleep? It was, he concluded, the only way of hiding the scars. He promptly sat down on his bed, pulling off his uniform jacket in the process. This meant facing the three men—all of whom were looking at him in surprise.

"You're not going to dinner?" Snake asked, a crease deepening in his forehead. Alex shook his head, silently wondering why the man insisted on his well-being. He was perfectly capable of making his own decisions, especially when it concerned eating a meal versus the sight of bruises.

"Well, it's not like they'll have anything new in the kitchen except for mush," Eagle pointed out. "If the kid doesn't want to eat, it's not like he's missing much."

Alex's eye twitched. "Kid"? He doubted there were many of those around with a bullet wound on their chest. They didn't have to worry about international terrorists planning to murder thousands of little children or lunatic assassins with a long history of double crossing. Besides, when was the last time his unit was concerned about him?

"You should eat," Wolf said gruffly. "Tomorrow we're starting with a fourteen kilometer run at 0600. You need your strength."

Alex raised his eyebrow, pointedly ignoring the man. He intended to stay in the room, and none of his unit's persuasive techniques would work on him. He had survived Scorpia—K-unit would not be any more difficult to withstand.

And thinking so, he lay down on his bed, turning on his side to avoid looking at the three bewildered men any longer. Closing his eyes, he snuggled deeper into the bed. The SAS standard bed kit wasn't comfortable by any means but he was determined to enjoy his sleep, even if the men stared at him all night.

For a moment, Alex was in bliss. His mind cleared of all thoughts, peacefully reminding him that he was in no danger here surrounded by cautious men. In the smallest corner, there was a whispering, but he ignored it in exchange for calm.

His legs were pulled out from beneath him. Alex's eyes flew open as the three men hoisted him into the air. Eagle had a small smirk on his face, and immediately he knew the man was behind this. He grimaced and twisted his arms around Eagle's neck forcing the man into dropping him onto the floor. Wolf's tight grasp on his arms loosened quickly as Alex turned around, bending his arms. Snake's own hold on the boy dropped, and he pulled himself free from the men.

Alex stood up facing his unit with a glare. Eagle looked peeved as though his brilliant plan had miserably failed, but instantly quailed under Alex's death stare. Wolf and Snake, on the other hand, didn't look particularly unhappy about the turn of events, as though they were expecting the outcome of the fight. He supposed Eagle put the other two up to it.

"He did it," Eagle said quickly, pointing at Snake. Alex raised an eyebrow at the man. Snake didn't look happy about the accusation, instead looking rather apathetic at the outburst. Of course, Eagle was the prime suspect just by his personality alone.

Wolf intervened before Eagle could accuse the team leader as well. "Look, Cub," he said, raising his hands. "We all should go together as a unit even if it's only for meals. We're here for two weeks—might as well start working together now."

In Alex's mind Wolf's words made sense. Better yet, the words weren't intended to be harsh like the conversations he had previously when he actually spoke. It seemed as though Wolf was attempting to ease the past tensions that he knew existed within the group. Did he care about him?

_No_, he thought firmly. Wolf was the team leader, and all leaders knew those working within the team needed to protect each other in order to maintain an effective unit. _They don't really care about me_.

But even still, as Alex watched as Eagle fidgeted looking between him and Wolf, Wolf was right. He couldn't simply ignore the team because he didn't care for them—or they didn't care for him. Two weeks at Brecon Beacons would be torture without the aid of his unit, proof seen with the first time he had arrived at this hell. He needed to give a little to gain a little here.

So he nodded slightly, loosening his frown into a straight line. Wolf stared at him for a second as though he didn't quite comprehend he had agreed willingly. It wasn't like him to simply agree and especially not with people he didn't know well. But the man lifted his head up, recognizing Alex's decision.

"We should go," Snake broke in, his Scottish accent coming cleanly through. "We're going to be late."


	3. Mess Hall

It was a quiet walk as they strolled along the barely visible pathway to the mess hall. Alex didn't bother checking to see if K-unit was behind him, instead pushing forward faster. He was intent on eating as quickly as he could and leaving for some necessary sleep. Not that he would get it anyway. It was just a habit. The nightmares made it all too easy for a sleepless night.

For the briefest moment, Alex tuned K-unit out—something he found he had to do often in order to stop the alertness and wariness that came with the job. He needed to relax here. Brecon Beacons was the safest place MI6 could have sent him, and they hadn't exactly sent him to good places before. It was a welcoming change from the high-speed chases and BASE jumping.

But he found he couldn't. The muscles in his back were still taut with tension, his hands still in fists, clenched, though he didn't quite know why. _And besides_, Alex snorted to himself, _it's a military training ground_. Like they'd let him relax. The fourteen kilometer run sounded less than appealing to the fifteen year old schoolboy.

His ears picked up the next sentence Snake said. "Is he seeing a psychiatrist?" he whispered to Wolf. "We all went through our tests…I wonder who's his psychiatrist?"

Wolf grunted. "He's a messed-up kid. I don't think it matters who his psychiatrist is."

"But—"

"But," Wolf snapped back, Alex quietly thinking it was rather forceful, "he's part of our team. What I mean is, he doesn't need a psychiatrist. He needs people who can relate over a university grad student who has no clue what real battles are. Bet his psychiatrist never went out into an under-fire building to extract civilians."

Alex's lips twitched at the thought. MI6 immediately sent him to a psychiatrist the minute he had returned, never mind Edward Pleasure's attempts to take him in instead. The psychiatrist there, one Mr. Henry Barry, was a cheerful young man who belittled his patients. Alex promptly ignored the man after the first meeting, preferring to bring in magazines and homework over the man's overzealous assumptions of his "work". The man hadn't even been briefed on who Alex was. He'd just believed Alex became an orphan.

Partially true. Only, Alex thought grimly, it was a year before. Ian Rider was his last living relation, and he'd died in the hands of Herod Sayle. His hands tightened unconsciously. All the lunatics who wanted to destroy lives were the ones who had destroyed his life…along with the ones who had helped him stop all seven billion of them.

Alex reached the mess hall with K-unit trailing behind. He caught Wolf's last words before the man caught up to him, "…the sergeant expects us to help the kid."

Well. The same sergeant who had expected nothing less than SAS perfection from a child wanted to keep an eye on him. He didn't know how to feel about that. Happiness? Anger? Caution? It was certainly in his best interests to see what K-unit would do after being handed the orders.

He pushed the thought away and door open. The moment he did so, he found what he thought were fifty men boring their eyes at him. Alex instantly reverted in assassin mode: the less he showed, the less they knew.

K-unit came up from behind, took one look, and breezed past him. The mess hall slowly relapsed back into the quiet chatter that Alex was used to, though no man's eyes left him. Alex grimaced but moved forward. There were many more new recruits than old veterans coming back for a refresher. It meant he would be facing about the same level of hostility he faced the first time he was here. Or worse. The thought did nothing to help him shake the wary feeling off.

Alex took his place in line, avoiding the paths of any soldier. He had a feeling he would be faced with forceful opposition if he did. It wasn't as though K-unit would intervene besides—what was the worst a soldier could do to a child like him? Beat him up? Alex doubted these soldiers would fall down to that level. A few words perhaps, nothing more. Although, Alex mused, he was using the lack of words to give off his hatred towards life at the moment.

He received his tray full of unidentifiable grey gloop and lethargically moved to the table where K-unit was sitting, purposefully sitting a few seats away in solitary. He didn't want them constantly looking at him in suspicion when he was just eating his meal.

His hand grabbed the fork and he started to eat without tasting. The men around him were quieter than usual, yet the hushed whispers managed to slide into Alex, the attempts for silence failing on the ears of a SCORPIA trainee. He could hear the man with the Brummie accent two tables down to the right questioning the sergeant for allowing a teenager inside official grounds, the Scotsman to his left arguing with the Scouse accented man on the reason why Alex was here. If only the three men knew.

_Newbies_. Alex personally thought the Brummie-man wouldn't survive. He was much too overweening, too pompous, too argumentative towards authority. No, he would be out long before the four weeks of training were up. Still, Alex couldn't be the judge for these men. They had to all be extremely well-trained in terms of military men, else they wouldn't be here. All SAS men were at Brecon Beacons for a reason. His was for assimilating back into a normal British teen.

His fork clattered onto the plate. Alex looked down and saw to his surprise the tray empty. Somehow, without actually burning from hunger, he'd manage to finish off inedible food…more than his kidnapping.

He didn't want to think about that.

He stood, taking his tray over to the drop-off where several men were waiting in line for the chefs to clear the area. A few soldiers stole curious glances but quickly turned away the moment Alex caught their eye, all except for one man whom he recognized as Hawk, the sniper for L-unit.

Alex didn't particularly like Hawk. The previous time at "camp", Hawk had been smug about going over to the shooting range, often shooting glares at Alex without undisguised contempt. He'd swung his rifle over his shoulder with ease and Alex found himself staring at the man wondering what exactly he'd done to piss off the soldier.

But perhaps he was being too judgmental. After all, Hawk hadn't exactly spoken to Alex. In fact, Alex remembered, Hawk had barely shown up in the areas where Alex trained, as L-unit was in a different sector. Maybe, Alex thought, it was his fourteen year-old self speaking of jealousy. He never saw L-unit completing the obstacle course at the same time K-unit was.

Hawk met Alex's eyes full-on, his black-brown eyes seeming to drill holes into his head. Alex didn't flinch, instead deciding to meet the man with a blank stare. It was only a second but it felt longer to him. Then Hawk nodded respectfully, and moved forward to brush past Alex.

In that instant, Alex was seized with terror. The simple touch transformed into a shock, the same touch of fear drowning him the moment Jack's vehicle exploded into flames. He fell back, staggering and gasping for breath as he clutched his head in agony. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe.

Before he could get a hold of himself, his killer instinct clicked "on" and he turned emotionless eyes to Hawk, seeing not a soldier of great pride but a man bent on destroying him. His hands reached out, grabbing Hawk's wrists and twisting them so it snapped with a heart wrenching _crack_! Hawk barely let out a scream, suppressing the pain as he desperately turned his eyes to the boy in front of him in shock, but Alex only saw Hawk as an enemy. He didn't think about the soldier as a soldier but as a person of harm.

_They killed Jack_.

_They killed Jack_.

Alex slammed Hawk onto the ground, lifting the man off his feet. He spun around to add in an extra kick, impairing the soldier even further as blood spurt from his already broken nose. Then he took a step back to admire his handiwork…

"Cub!"

Alex barely registered the name was referred to him, turning to the speaker's voice with blind eyesight. There another soldier was, built exactly like Hawk, spoke exactly like Hawk. There was no name for this man. He was the enemy too.

He moved forward—and was stopped by a hand clutching the edge of his school uniform.

School. Uniform.

Alex jerked backwards, blinking rapidly at the sudden realization of the present. There Hawk's hand was, tugging him backwards. What for, again? Oh yes…Alex froze. He was about to attack Eagle, the same man who belonged to his unit. The same man who was responsible for Alex's well-being.

He started to shake, back and forth, his brain unable to catch up to what he had just done. No, it wasn't that. He'd already caught up to the situation. He just didn't want to think about it. What does a boy say when he was about to kill two men without a second's thought?

A bitter taste spread in his mouth. It was SCORPIA that needed to pay for this. SCORPIA had taken Jack away, had taken away any chance that he had of ever returning to the ordinary schoolboy.

He looked up to see the entire mess hall staring at him, wary, with their weapons they had on them drawn. They were standing, watching him, waiting to see if he would make another mistake. No, _he _hadn't known there was a way to salvage his burning destruction in his heart, and he'd released it onto a man who he didn't even know personally. He was ready to kill an innocent man simply because he was angry.

He couldn't deal with them watching. They were watching too closely, with just too much scrutiny.

So he turned on his heel and ran out of the mess hall, ignoring the cries that exploded behind him.


End file.
